Fashionably Late
by Zoot
Summary: Slash. Crossover. Denial. "Bring Black back!" What more can I say without ruining it for you?


Title: Fashionably Late.   
Fandom: HP.   
Characters: Remus and Sirius.   
Rating: PG, PG-13ish.   
Spoilers: OoTP   
Pairing: R/S   
Genre: Slash. Fluff. Crossover.   
Archiving: Just let me know if you plan on taking it.   
Notes: Takes place after OoTP. I*m putting the disclaimer at the bottom because yeah. I don*t want everyone to know what crossover it is before they read it.

"_Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while._" – Wesley; "The Princess Bride."

            As he fell through the veil, a million responsibilities, memories, accusations, and thoughts passed through his mind. Harry was in danger and now he was alone and he'd completely broken his promise to James and oh, he'd be seeing James soon anyway and what a great time it would be to have a mini-reunion and hey, they were only two member short because that rat who deserved to die was still alive and so was his beautiful Remus, oh god, Remus was all alone again and he'd broken his promise to Remus and it was all his fault that he was always leaving Remus, but it was never ever his _choice_ to leave him because why would he want to leave him because he loved Remus and Remus was so perfect and amazing and he was just his Remus, his Moony, his everything and what would Remus do and Remus and Remus and Remus and Remus…

            "For being so skinny, you're actually quite heavy." Sirius was jolted back into reality at those words. Not because of the words themselves, but because the voice that spoke them was the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. The words slowly sunk in and he realized that he was being supported by strong arms clad in a dull purple. He pulled himself away from the man and stood up straight. He cleared his throat.

            "Sorry about that. I, er…" No. He couldn't say it. His tongue was too heavy.

            "You died, Sirius."

            Sirius nodded. "Yeah. I'd figured as much." His voice was more like a heavy sigh than a voice. "So. What next?" For the first time, Sirius looked up into the man's face. He nearly gagged. "Snape! Oi! Get out of my hereafter! Sod off, you great big buggering git!"

            The man smirked. "I'm hardly the man that you think I am, Sirius." Unfortunately, the smirk was given more heed than the words.

            "Oh, don't you smirk at me! What are you doing here anyway? Just can't get your oversized _beak_ out of my life and now lack thereof!" His throat seized up once he heard the words he'd spoken. It had all been okay until that point in time because he could pretend he didn't register. But his lips had betrayed him. He had announced his own death. Best to cover it up with his new realization. "But if you're here, does that mean you're dead, too?"

            "Sirius, I told you. I'm not Severus Snape," the man said in a very weary tone.

            "Oh. Well then, who are you?"

            The man spread his arms the tiniest bit and it seemed that a beam of light shone down upon him. Sirius choked when he noticed the impressive wingspan sprouting off the man's back.

            "I am the Metatron." The beautiful voice seemed to reverberate around the… well, whatever this blank, black space was. Sirius scratched his head. 

"Megatron… Megatron… Oh! Wasn't that one of the char—"

"Me_ta_tron." The wings fell. "You people are all _so_ aggravating."

"Er. So you're… not human?"

"Oh, did the _wings_ clue you in?" He jabbed his thumb back at the limp wings. "No. I'm not human. I'm an angel."

Sirius blinked repeatedly. "Like… from Christian mythology?"

The Metatron snorted. "It's not mythology, twit. It's true."

"You're nutters."

"And you're dead. What's your point?" He sighed. "Look. We can stand here all millennium snarking and whinging, but I've got a very busy schedule. Lots of messages to deliver. Si—"

"Messages from who?"

"From your mum. Who do you think?! I'm an angel. _An_-gel. Not just any angel, mind you, but the _Metatron_. I act as the Voice of God."

"So you deliver mess—"

"Please don't continue that statement and let me give you the benefit of the doubt. Honestly. You're a great candidate to prove that one _can_ have their brains shagged out. Makes me much happier about my own state of anatomical affairs."

Sirius nodded knowingly. "Ah. A Eunuch."

The Metatron wrinkled up his face. "No. That's just awful. I tried to tell the Christians that deep voices are just fine, but they wouldn't listen. Truth be told, the higher pitch quite annoys me. Sensitive hearing and all that."

"So if you're not a Eunuch, what's the pro—" Sirius stopped his sentence when the Metatron dropped his pants to reveal a completely blank surface. "—oh."

"Anyhow, much as I'd love to stay and chat it up, I have to give you some news." The Metatron pulled his pants back up and smiled. "Let's go for a walk. It's a bit too dark and cold here for my liking." He snapped his fingers.

Sirius and the Metatron started walking around the duck pond in the park. Oddly enough, Sirius didn't question how they had apparated so quickly and without wands. He also didn't question how the Metatron had acquired the crackers he was breaking up and feeding to the ducks.

"Sirius, you died. You died because of your arrogance, your stupidity, your recklessness, and your passion. By all means, you and I should not be speaking right now. You should be wherever your eternal resting place is."

Sirius bit his lower lip. "Did I do something wrong?"

The Metatron smiled thoughtfully. "Yes. You died."

Sirius sighed. Must he keep being reminded of that little incident? "Look. I know it's all my fault and I really, _really_ fu—messed up, but it's not like I _cho_—"

"—you weren't supposed to die." Sirius blinked. "It wasn't your proverbial time. There's a whole list of things that you have to do in order for events to play out correctly so that our side wins against Voldemort."

"So now you're telling me that not only did I ruin my own life, but I've botched the Order's chance as well?" He felt like he was going to cry.

"Basically. However, there's a tiny thing in our system that can save you and the Order." The Metatron snapped his fingers again. They found themselves in a dusty bedroom that smelled like decay. It was quite dark and rather warm. Sirius immediately recognized it as one of the rooms in Grimmauld Place that had not been cleaned out. He inhaled sharply when he saw that a man was lying on top of the mildewing sheets on the bed.

He was lying flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wasn't crying, but his eyes had the glassed over look of someone who's cried all he can. His breathing was incredibly shallow. The very slight rise and fall of his chest was the only visible movement he made.

"Oh, Moony." Sirius screwed his eyes shut to block out his own tears. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Remus is your loophole," the Metatron said. Sirius turned to face him and opened his eyes. The Metatron's face was the epitome of sympathy. "Do you feel uncomfortable here? We can go somewhere else to dis—"

"No."

The Metatron nodded. "Alright. Contrary to you people's whinging and complaining about loneliness and such, everyone has one true and great love on this planet. Everyone finds theirs and will meet them at some point in time. You'd be surprised how many of them never even speak to each other. Even more depressing is the sheer number of people who manage to get together and botch it up over stupid things. Maybe every fifty years or so, two souls will actually stay together. Regardless of whether or not they actually stay together, they will die at the same time, maybe an hour apart."

"This is all great and beautiful and poetic, but how does this affect me?"

"Remus didn't die."

"Well, then I guess I've fallen in love with the wrong person for me. Who needs a true love anyway?" Sirius swallowed back the lump in his throat.

"That's just it. You two _are_ each other's soul mates. And you _didn't_ muck it up and separate. He _should_ have died. But he didn't."

"I _just_ died. He still has, like, forty-five minutes to kick the bucket."

"No. You died a week ago." Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but the Metatron held up his hand and continued. "You know, God's a pretty busy being. It takes a little while to process these tiny flaws. And then, I had to track down your soul. I'd say a week was exceptional timing."

"Where was I?"

"If I tell you, I can't make you my offer. No one living can know what happens after death."

"But I'm not. I'm dead."

The Metatron's eyes twinkled. "Not if you accept my offer."

"What's your offer?"

"Sometimes, there are glitches in the system and one person won't die. That's fine if they're separate; it always smoothes itself out. However, if those two people have been together, we offer them the choice: you can stay here and bring Remus back with you to stay together in blissful eternity or you can return to life and wait for your real death."

Sirius snorted. "That's it? That's entirely too easy."

"Well, you can either be assured of a peaceful eternity with Remus o you can go back, fight in a brutal war, and risk losing Remus forever."

Sirius inhaled sharply. "But… but we'd see each other again when we died, yeah? I mean, we're soul mates."

The Metatron shook his head. "No, Sirius. That's only if you stay together. From the moment you two doubted each other a year before James and Lily were murdered up until that night in the Shrieking Shack, you two weren't together, thus you would have been separated." He smiled thinly and tilted his head to the side. "Aren't you glad you asked him to out Peter like that?"

Sirius looked back at Remus lying on the bed.

_"Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin._

_"Together?" he said quietly._

_"I think so," said Lupin._

Sirius shook his head to bring himself back into the present. He turned back to face the Metatron again. "What about Harry?"

"What _about_ Harry?"

"Does he need me?"

The Metatron contemplated before speaking slowly. "He thinks he does. So in a way, yes. But you're bad for him."

Sirius paled. "What?"

"You're dangerous for him. You encouraged him to do stupid things. You made him feel bad for not doing things that James would have done. Sirius, you have to realize that they're two entirely different people. Harry will never be James. He can't afford to be as reckless as you four were. If you don't understand that, Harry will die and Voldemort wins. He won't be able to go back because he isn't yet with his soul mate. Also, that person _will_ die if Harry dies. It's a given. So…" He shrugged.

Sirius bit his lower lip. "What'll happen if Remus di—" He couldn't finish the word. "What'll happen if I bring Remus with me?"

"Now, that's a bit harder to say. You see, Remus is the sole most important member of the Order. He holds it together, basically. He keeps everyone happy and calm. He smoothes things over for the various members. He used to be working on one of the most important tasks in the Order and he's the only one who can so do. However, since you death, he hasn't done much of anything at all." The Metatron glanced over the werewolf's still form. Sirius turned to face his lover again and reached out a hand to run through Remus's hair. He shivered involuntarily.

"I don't suppose he can feel me." Sirius's voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes were still fixed on Remus.

The Metatron shook his head. "No. We're in a different realm. At best, all he can feel is a draft."

Sirius pulled his hand, but not his gaze, away. "So if I go back, Harry could die. If I don't, the Order is fucked," he snarled.

"Not necessarily. There's still hope either way or else God wouldn't have offered this." Sirius looked back up at him. "I know it sounds unfair and maybe it is, but you get a choice, so don't complain. I've told you the pros and cons of each. Now make your choice."

"So much for 'patience is a virtue'," Sirius muttered under his breath.

***

Remus hadn't really slept for a week. Not even the sleeping draughts Severus offered helped much. He would always lie down and shut his eyes and then, his thoughts got louder. Sirius was gone and it was all his fault because he should have caught him when he fell because how could he let him go if he loved him and he loved him so much that it hurt and now he finally understood why love was so painful and did the veil cause him any pain when he fell because the last thing that Sirius needed was pain because hadn't Azkaban been enough pain for someone to have to go through and he couldn't keep doing this every time h lost Sirius and he'd lost Sirius so many times what had he possibly been thinking when he thought he might actually be able to keep him this time but then again he wouldn't have to worry about losing him anymore because he was dead and death wasn't like Azkaban because you couldn't escape because death was a ceasing of being it was an end it was a negative it was death and it was Sirius because Sirius was dead.

Variations on this theme would play throughout his dreams. And still, every morning without fail, he would always expect the empty bed to shift, signaling the return of his lover from the loo. After five minutes or an hour or so, reality would sink in and he would pull himself out of bed. Thus it was that he wasn't immediately surprised when he felt a warm body wrapped around him upon waking. Remus clung back and pressed his face into skin that, upon closer inspection, felt like a neck. A familiar smell washed over him.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured. He felt himself being pulled closer to the source of heat.

"Mm. Morning, my darli—" Sirius was interrupted by a quick kick in the shins as the body leapt out of bed.

"Holy fuck! Who the bloody hell are you?!" Remus's eyes were glowing with anger. His bare chest was rising and falling in rapid, jagged movements due to his labored breathing. It was all Sirius could do to not throw himself at Remus and beg to be thoroughly debauched.

"Well, most people would cal me Si—"

"—most people would call you _dead_." The words stung more than they had been intended to. Sirius shrank back. Remus sat back down on the edge of the bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Moony. Please."

"But it _can't_ be. You… you _died_, Padfoot. I _saw_ you." Sirius noted the faintest glimmer of a tear trickling down his love's – no, his _soul mate's_ – face. He hesitantly reached out and brushed it away with his thumb before taking Remus's hand away from his face and holding it.

"What did I promise you after Voldemort's return?" He brushed his lips against the back of Remus's hand and looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"That you would stay in human form when it rains so my house wouldn't reek of wet dog?" A smile tugged at his lips as he spoke. Sirius chuckled.

"What else did I promise you? Regarding _us_." He squeezed Remus's hand tightly on the final word.

"That we wouldn't have to go through this alone this time around."

"Precisely. Now, I don't know about you, but I would say that me dying would leave us both alone. And you know that I can't break my word to you." He tentatively scooted closer to Remus.

"Mm. So you got to the pearly gates or the sulfuric pits, gave the ruler of whichever kingdom the finger, and said 'Sod off! I've got a promise to keep to my love!' eh?"

"Tsk. All I had to do was flash a grin and everyone swooned and fainted, so I sauntered out and found my way back to you."

"You took bloody long enough." Remus punched him in the shoulder with his free hand.

"Well, I had to be fashionably late."

"Fashionable indeed in that tatty robe."

"See if I ever return from the dead for you again." He dramatically sniffed.

"Did you really return for me?" The tone of Remus's voice was sober again.

"Just for you. Only for you. Always for you." Sirius planted little kisses all over Remus's palm.

"But how?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I would, too!"

Sirius laughed at his lover's indignation. "Alright. You and I are soul mates."

"You don't believe in soul mates."

"I also didn't believe in angels until I met you." Sirius kissed him on the lips.

***

"Oh, please! That was so cheesy, it hurt. It's almost blasphemous, really. And he didn't believe in angels or else he would have known me. Honestly. Who doesn't know who the Metatron is?" The Metatron threw up his hands and turned to his companion, shaking his head. She made sad eyes at him.

"You probably think it's cute."

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. The Metatron looked back at the scene, which had now progressed into a more intimate moment of sweat and entangled limbs.

"They really can't keep their hands off each other. No wonder he seemed so distraught when I showed him my blank canvas."

His companion giggled as She watched the two. She turned back to the Metatron and made a face that mimicking that of Sirius's. Metatron eyed Her thoughtfully.

"You're getting to be quite good at that. I'm going to go for a bit. Check up on Bethany and those prophets." He sighed wearily. "An angel's work is never done. Toodles."

She smiled broadly and saluted him before he left. She resumed watching Her creations at play. It always made God happy to see Her greatest gift being shared.

Disclaimer: I don*t own The Princess Bride. I don*t own anything Harry Potter. I don*t own anything Dogma.


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